Richard and Haven were fighting now. Fighting with a capital F, if you're not planning to kill each other. It was a kind of fighting that I would never be able to do. Pounding the shit out of each other, and being able to take the damage. It was guy fighting, for the sake of a point, yes. I'd asked for help to move Haven and protect the other men. Haven's fist got past Richard's arms, and Richard staggered back two steps, but hunched his body, so that the blows Haven tried to rain on him hit only shoulders and arms. Richard, on the other hand, landed two solid body blows that doubled Haven over. Richard followed with a fist to his chin, and only Haven throwing himself backward kept the next blow from hitting. Richard didn't give him time to recover. He came at him with a flurry of blinding kicks that put the other man into a defensive crouch against the far wall. Richard was winning. I realized in that moment that I hadn't thought he would.
Noel touched my face, turned my gaze back to his scared face. «Anita, please don't touch him, not until you've at least tried one of us.»
I checked Richard's progress one more time. Haven was against the wall, simply trying to keep the kicks from hitting him, not even trying to fight back now.
I looked at Travis and his wounds. Noel's eyes so scared. The lions' pride worked; they were one of the few wereanimal groups in town that let their people lead nearly ordinary lives. No power struggles, no hiring bodyguards. Joseph's people were people first, animals second. If Haven stayed in town, hooked up to the power that I had through Jean-Claude's marks, would the lions' world go up in flames?
«You don't think Joseph would win the fight?» I asked.
«He is not the fighter that your Ulfric is,» Travis said. Travis said it like it was just true, and no big deal. That was the biggest difference between wolf and lion culture; all the big cat shapeshifters seemed to be less about combat, and more about what was best for the group. The wolf culture was much more about strong is right, weak is just dead. Someone had suggested that it was because the werewolf culture passed through the Vikings' culture, more than any other shapeshifter society. Maybe. Real wolves certainly weren't more vicious than lions, or leopards.
«Wait a minute,» I said. «Joseph won his fight with Haven.»
«Joseph got lucky,» Travis said. He motioned at the fight. «He got real lucky.»
Richard had the other man in a defensive ball against the wall. Haven had given up fighting back, and was just trying to keep the damage down. Richard did a very Richard thing. He backed up. The fight was over, as far as he was concerned. Since he wasn't going to kill Haven, the fight should have been over. But Haven's day job was mob enforcer; it's a different mentality.
Richard's voice sounded tired, but not strained, «Stay down.»
Haven got to his knees, shaking his head. «I can't.»
«You can't win,» Richard said.
«Doesn't matter,» Haven said, «still have to get up.»
«Stay down,» Richard said.
«No,» Haven said, and he used the wall to push to his feet. He fell back to his knees, one hand holding him swaying against the wall.
I said, «Stay down, Haven.»
«Can't,» was all he said, and he gathered himself for a rush. He came up off the floor in a blur of speed, still dangerous, for all the damage he'd taken. Richard sidestepped him, let his own momentum send him crashing to the floor.
«This fight is over,» Richard said, and he made the mistake. He offered Haven a hand up.
I had time to yell, «No!» I wasn't even sure who I was yelling it at.
Haven kicked out with everything he had left; he tried to dislocate Richard's knee. Richard had time to avoid some of it, but not all of it. His knee collapsed and he went down.
My gun was out and pointed. I got to my feet. If Haven had pushed the attack I'd have shot him, but he didn't. He lay back on the floor as if that last kick had taken all the fight out of him. «The fight is over,» I said, just in case.
«Yeah,» Haven said, and his voice held pain, «now, it is.»
I stared down the barrel of the gun at him, and he didn't even seem to see the gun. He certainly didn't react to it. Most people don't like having guns pointed at them; if he didn't like it, it didn't show. «I'm thinking you need to go back to Chicago.»
«Why? Because I hurt your boyfriend?»
«No, because you hurt two people who couldn't fight back. And, the fight was over; you gained nothing from that last kick.»
«He's hurt, I gained that.»
I shook my head. «That's not how we play here.»
He lay on his back, covered in blood, and too tired, or too hurt, to sit up. He was still breathing hard. «Tell me the rules here, and I'll follow them. Ask Augustine — I follow the rules, once you make 'em clear to me.»